’nuff said

26 09 2009

the ones who don’t believe in you or the things you do are a cancer, and should be treated as such.


awesome kids

19 09 2009

my buddy max landed on his face and broke his cheekbone. he was rocking a wheelie, or hitting something awesome, and came out of his cage and lost control. his leg went through his front wheel, and he endo’d over and landed on his chest and face.

i found out about this through another friend posting on twitter:

“hellbentonbikes: @maximilig crashed on his bike and now we are at the ER. his ok but not rideong for a bit. send hime best wishes.”

i called the one known as hellbent and found out the entire story above but that’s not important. what’s important is that when i was hanging out at hellbent’s apt earlier, max showed up on his bike. he literally took one day off, threw a spare front wheel on his bike, and then rode over. his forks are toast, and he destroyed his cages. but that shit is replaceable, and wounds will heal.

we’re riding to big sur in a couple weeks. i’m already worried that max will feel compelled to do some wheelies on hw 1. he can’t help it… he just loves to shred.

a lesson on odometer malfunction…

15 09 2009

i woke up hungover, as i normally do before riding long distances. but this time, it was a real humdinger. i was sleeping on justin’s futon, and briefly searched for my phone. when i found it, i realized that i had 40 minutes until the race.

this meant that i wouldn’t be able to borrow a bike. i called jeromy and told him that i would meet him downtown, and a bagel and espresso later, i was at the bike church signing in to race a cyclocross event with my track bike.

from joshua of california

this pic is from the finish line. notice the distinct characteristics of each bike, knobby tires, rear brakes, knobby tires, etc. i also want to point out that the teal bike in the middle of pic is made out of scandium. i’m not sure if it made its owner faster, but i hear he dominated everyone.

even though i saw mr. scandium flying by us in the opposite direction as we approached the third checkpoint, i still felt good about my chances in placing top ten. after nearly rolling over my bars a few times on some gravel descents (gives whipskidding a whole new meaning), we reached a nice section of road and i was finally able to find a rhythm with my pace.

we were coming off a nice climbing section when i noticed my odometer had stopped working. i must have been doing at least 25, so i leaned over to look briefly at the wire. i looked back up, and all i saw was jeromy, sideways across the lane, slowing to make a left turn. he was less than three feet in front of me.  i yelled “shit,” locked my rear tire, grabbed my front brake, and smacked shoulder first into jeromy at 20 mph.

in an instant, we were both on the ground. he was pulling over to the left side of the road for a checkpoint, so a half dozen people were instantly around us, helping us off the road. jeromy asked if i was ok, and i replied yes. the real answer was that i felt like a shithead. despite a bit of rash, jeromy was ok, too.

we checked out bikes, and then high-fived each other once we realized everything was fine. we also spent the rest of the day laughing about the story. we walked through sand trails, nearly fell off of train trestles, and ascended hills so steep we had to occasionally chill out before slinging bikes back onto our shoulders, and we fucking laughed our asses off the whole damned time.

i finished 26 and jeromy finished 25. or the other way around, i don’t really remember, nor do i care. what i do know is that there was a keg of porter, a ton of food, and eventually a bottle of jameson that we all passed around at the finish line. when jeromy found out it was a yearly event, his response summed up my feelings as well.

“once a year? why can’t we get together and do this shit every weekend?”

ruling… or drooling?

11 09 2009

tomorrow, at around 9am, i’ll roll to jeromy’s. he’ll take one of his carbon hardtail mtbs and i’ll borrow the other one. then we’ll ride downtown to eat bagels, and maybe drink a shot of espresso, and we’ll head to the bike church around 10:30. we’ll sign up for the race, stretch a bit, and then at 11, we will fucking school about 80 other kids in the art of the wildcat.

i’ve never raced a wildcat before, but it sounds rad. a cx alleycat. i love alleycats, and i’ve been trying to get on a mtb, so it seems perfect. jeromy used to race mtb, then got slow, but has gotten back into it with a vengeance. i am so fucking stoked to be able to race with him, because i know he will teach me a few things about descending hills on singletrack.

if you can’t tell, i have high hopes. but to be honest, i would be happy with a top ten. it’s been over a decade since i bombed a hill on a mtb, and although i’m faster than i was back then, i don’t think i bounce as easily.

i’ll let you know if i come home with anything rad.

swatting at the stars

11 09 2009

i was in a happy place. the tailwind was perfect, my cadence was zipping me along at 18.3 mph, and the sun was whistling a happy tune as the fields danced. then i felt another rider breeze by. at first, i thought it was one of my friends, looking for a game.

then i realized it was actually a spandex-clad weekend warrior, ripping along at 25+. there was no wave, no hello, nothing. just the grimace that is so familiar on road biker’s faces. at first, i let him pass. then after watching him blaze an 1/8th mile lead, i realized that this was the moment i had been waiting for, and stood up. three repetitions were all i needed to set my pace, and then i waited.

when most people think about fixed gear, they think about descents. “how do you make it down a hill without coasting?” “why would you do that to a bike?” “are you fucking stupid or crazy?”

hey, rhetorical questions, that last one was over the line.

for me, the best part about fixed gear is climbing hills. specifically, hills up to a 15% grade. i can tear up shop with my eighty gear inches, and that’s exactly what i did. as soon as we reached the first big hill, i stood up and hammered into the base, keeping my speed. the road biker geared down, and in the process slowed his pace.

i put my head down, grabbed my drops, and concentrated on cadence. a moment later i was drafting. the roadie glanced back, and then stood up and tried to get away.

i chased him up the hill, watched him pull ahead on the descent, and then caught him again on the next incline. a few miles later, i realized that i had been keeping a pace of well over 20 mph up and down the hills.

it was then that i decided to let him go, and dropped back down to a more comfortable pace. i was 75 miles into my ride to santa cruz, and knew i had to ride home eventually. i ended up knocking out 96 miles, with the last three fairly buzzed. still haven’t hit a fucking century, but there’s always next weekend.


this saturday i’ll be racing the wildcat in downtown santa cruz. it’s an event to benefit the bike church, and joshua muir of frances cycles will be giving away one of his most-beautiful-in-the-world framesets.

let’s fucking party.

the proto

3 09 2009

it’s too heavy on the front, so i’m going to do a little modification.


within the range of my voice..

3 09 2009

i will be riding around sf tomorrow (friday) night, and then riding home with a few new friends in the morning (saturday). if you’d like to ride with us, we are meeting at the statue near baker and fell at 7:45 with a departure time of 8.